


tenderness practice.

by anoetic



Series: a softer timeline. [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, Tokio Hotel, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fade to Black, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pillow Talk, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 17:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21359743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoetic/pseuds/anoetic
Summary: "who were you making love to?""you, i hope."
Series: a softer timeline. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1079220
Kudos: 5





	tenderness practice.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back for now! it feels good to finally write again, yes, this pairing is still my ball and chain! i would love to be able to truly flesh out their relationship at some point.  
kudos and comments are always appreciated!

The first time they had sex was that dirty Tuesday night, the both of them laid out together on Bill’s bed, the ceiling fan circling slow above them. They didn’t say much, the quiet space formed between them was gentle enough, though wondering as well, almost like an invitation and Bill had accepted it, turning onto his side to lean a kiss to the corner of Roman’s mouth, the touch too innocent, a careful testing of the waters of just how deep this thing between them was, could be.

He watches Roman watch him, his eyes calculating, searching, curious even as to what the next move will be and who will make it, the silence crowding expectantly between them now and Bill can feel the pulse of his heart jump in his chest, bursting brilliantly through it when Roman kisses him back. It’s controlled, practiced, warm and it startles Bill, lids fluttering shut and his hands suddenly needing, wanting underneath Roman’s sweatshirt, up his stomach, his chest, wherever his hands met skin goosebumps followed sweetly behind.

It felt beautiful the way Roman looked at him, like he wanted Bill. All of him, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, Roman took willingly, gladly and Bill was pleased, hugging his arms around Roman’s middle, his nails scarring half moons into his skin. He wonders what Roman is thinking, that beautiful face, that beautiful body seeping perfectly into his, trembling and hard.

When it’s over they’re beside one another now, tangled pleasantly up in one another, finding comfort in their closeness and Bill smiles when Roman brings his fingers through Bill’s hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. “Who were you making love to?” Bill wants to know, without malice or judgement, only simple curiosity. Roman looks at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion and for a moment he’s unsure if this is one of those _damned if you do damned if you don’t_ situations, a bullet loaded in every chamber and the gun aimed right at Roman’s head, but he chooses not to panic. He's certain Bill doesn’t play those kind of games. He straightens up then, eyes still keen on Bill and his fingers find themselves against the heat of Bill’s cheek, caressing precious skin. “You, I hope,” is the honest reply.

“You touched me like I was a girl.”

Again, Bill isn’t aggravated nor his tone accusatory, just observant, a trait that Roman was fast to pick up on during the course of their friendship, but sometimes, privately he wondered if his being observant was a blessing or a curse. Roman raises himself up on his shoulders with a sigh, the blankets shifting quietly beneath him. He isn’t sure what Bill is getting at with this and initially a throb of defensiveness sets in and he opens his mouth to let it out before stopping himself, realizing how fucking stupid it would be to get into an argument right now.

“How would you like me to touch you then?” the question is sincere, a softer approach, the ceiling fan still turning and turning, a slow drip of silence between them and Bill makes a thoughtful sound, resting his cheek in the crook of his arm, admiring the intimacy of Roman’s gaze and wishing, greedily that he could have it all to himself, forever. “Like I am somebody you love,” he says.


End file.
